Two Dreams One Reality
by Lady Loser
Summary: Every story has a rough beginning, and a happy ending. But for one girl, that happy ending seems to be an endless wait. Until someone unexpected battles every obstical and knocks down every wall to give Pan Son her happily ever after.
1. Prince Charming

Every story has a happy ending.

Every girl in a fictional, romance novel is a damzel in distress in the first part, then over the next eighty pages, we watch the girl transform into a strong, independent woman who pulls her life together. With the help of a Prince Charming, of course. Every bad things falls into all the right places, and the ending is written with such fluff that most people forget to gag.

But I never did.

Though, I read these books all the time, watched the movies with eager eyes I knew that life never exactly happens that way. A happy ending, to me, is always the opening door to a new hoorible beginning. There was always something familier about every story I have read, and it was that they all had some kind of connection and similarities to Cinderella. Is it possible to hate fictional characters? I sure hope so, because I get mad and feel a cold rush of envy swarm over me with every magical ending.

The ending where Prince Charming sweeps the damzel off her feet and they stride off into the sunset. As much as I hate watching and reading, I continue to do so anyways. Because of the captivating but unoriginal plot lines - I always liked to pretend I was in their shoes. Like I only had a short wait until my Prince found me and took me away from the Hell. Once the credits would scroll on the black screen, playing a love song in slow rhythm, reality smacks me hard in the forehead. It would never happen. No use getting my hopes up.

All girls have the same thoughts and wishes as me. At least in one point in their lives. Do we not all remember when we were little girls, and we use to play dress up in the mirror?

Mom's high heeled shoes would turn into our glass slippers, Grandma's silk nightgown would be our beautiful gown, and we would use our fake make-up we had gotten for Christmas to prep our faces like we were porcelin dolls. We would spin, twirl, and smile into the mirror and simply imagine what our wedding day would be like. We would imagine out Prince Charming on his white horse holding his hand out to us, offering to take us away to a magical, and loving new eternity.

We would accept, jump onto the horse and hang on for deal life to Prince Charming. Somewhere, there would be an applause. People would envy us, and wish they had found the love like the one we had. We would move out of our shabby houses, not even bothering to pack because Prince Charming lived in a castle and would replace everything before even arriving at the castle gates. As if knowing they were going to find us, we already had clothes, and furniture awaiting us.

The wedding would be blissful. There would be everyone we knew, and everyone they knew sitting in rows crying for two reasons. One, because they were happy for us. Two, because they found themselves in a jealous position and were wishing that they could be standing infront of Prince Charming.

But this was 2008, and everything was so much different. There weren't castles with a room beckoning for a grungy girl such as myself. No, everything was so much different in the Millenium.

Prince Charming was captain and quarter back of the High School football team. He has so many friends, that his small get togethers required a few extra additions onto the house. He drove a little red convertable, and did not ride a white horse. He had the perfect image; Clean cut, buff, straight pearly teeth, tall and dark, and had loyal subjects falling at his feet. Including the majority of the middle school. Sometimes I could hear girls standing outside, gossiping about how they had brushed up against his Royal Highness. The group of girls would scream and grow giddy with every word that came out of the story teller's eyes.

She would make a simple, two second brush against his arm sound like a fairytale. She knew what he was wearing, what he smelled like, and told the girls that he had a small hole on his right sleeve. I couldn't help but laugh at them. Sure, I would like nothing more than to experience a shot with Orange Star High School's very own modern day Prince Charming. But what are those chances? The middle school gossip squad had a better shot than I did.

I looked up from my classwork when the bell rang, and realized that I had been lost in my own train of thought for some time now. In fact, I had not even written my name on my paper yet. And it was due in exactly negative two seconds. Great. Another bad report for my parents to hear. Dad always blamed himself, saying that if he didn't leave my mom then none of this would have happened. My grades wouldn't have went from straight A's, to downright F's. What was once a four point zero grade point average, is now barely even an exsistant point two.

I couldn't say that I disagreed with my dad. I coudn't stand Emma. She was an babbling idiot in my eyes. I hated her.

"Pan, did you finish you assignment?"

I looked up from my desk and shook my head at my teacher, "No, Mr. Yokoshi, I haven't." I stood up and grabbed my bookbag, slung it over my right shoulder and made way for the exit. But, of course, here came the lecture that would put me in the hot spot for next period. This man always made me late for my next class, and my English teacher was all but friendly.

"Ms. Son," he began. "I took a look at your records and previous grades. What happened? From the looks of it, you were once so head-strong and full minded about your schoolwork."

I simply shrugged and opened the door, "I don't know." I was now waiting for the ten million questions that was sure to follow.

"Well, I've arranged you a tutor," he said as he began collecting the rest of the papers from the empty desks. "I had a talk with your father, and he has agreed to it. Every day, starting today, you will stay after school for an extra hour."

I stared at him, my mouth agape at this news he just threw on me like a thick blanket, "Excuse me? I don't need a tutor."

"I'm aware of that, but I figured that maybe it was time you had a little extra help," he smiled and leaned on his desk. "You'll like him. He's very bright and talented. Someone like him could really help you out in the long run, Pan."

"I don't need help, Sir," I scorned him. "I'll be fine."

"So you don't want to graduate?" he asked.

What? Did he just insult me?

"I honestly can't say that I care," I retorted.

He sighed and looked at his watch, "You are to meet him in this classroom, right after school today. You're excused, Ms. Son."

I didn't bother rushing down the hallway, I already knew that I was getting a scolding. I could be ten seconds late and still have to cover my ears from her insane screaming. Crazy woman. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who was running a bit late. Prince Charming was standing up against his locker, talking to one of the Queen Bees of OSHS.

They went perfectly together, even though I wasn't quite sure if they were even dating. His perfect, athletes body, wonderfully groomed and handsome matched with her small body. Her hair was the typical blonde, and she had amazing blue eyes that was only a shade darker than his. I don't know when she had desided that her pigtails didn't work well in high school, but now her hair was in one messy bun tumbling from the hair tie from the top of her head.

Now, _that_ was a fairytale.

* * *

My last period of the day was by far the one I hated the most. I had class with the Queen Bee, and her friends. I had to overhear them talk about how perfect their lives were. The only complaint they ever had, was when they couldn't figure out what to wear for their night out. They argued over what club they should hit next, even though I was sure neither of them were legal. But, hey, they never stopped them from smoking outside of the gym.

"You two are going to end up getting together," one of them said to Queen Bee. "It's only a matter of time."

_Gag._

"Chels, we're just friends," Queen Bee blew a big pink bubble from her lips, and drew it back in.

"You know that's a load, Marron!" Chelsea laughed, nudging Marron's shoulder.

Yes, Marron Chestnut went from the Noseless Loser in grade school to being the most sought after girl in High School. I couldn't help but feel jealous. I was just as friendless as she was in those days, but I definantly didn't develope the way she had. Her body was toned like that of a College Tennis Player, and her assests were nothing to be ashamed of. Me, I had barely gone up a cup size sinse the seventh grade. I was still far behind in the "B Cup" catagory. Anything under a "C" just wouldn't cut it around here.

"So where is he anyways?" the other girl asked.

"He's in some advanced algebra class," Marron played with her pen and began doodling something onto her blank paper. "You know how smart he is. Such a nerd sometimes."

"But a _cute_ one," Chelsea laughed. That laugh drove me insane. If she went camping and laughed, she could pass as a hyena and scare everyone off the campground. "Right, Siya?"

Siya, the quieter one of the group nodded, "You should give it a shot, Marron. He is adorable, and I can tell that he likes you."

For being the Queen Bee and being used to every walking man having some kind of fantasy about her, Marron was sure shocked by Siya's opinion, "Do you really think so?" Her eyes were big with curiosity.

"You two are inseperable," Chelsea smiled brightly. "He _**adores**_ you."

Marron took this second to be thoughtful. I didn't believe someone like her actually had thoughts, so she must be a good actress.

"Well, he did ask me to go to a movie tonight," Marron blushed. "I guess I should accept."

Maybe the dorkiness of Marrno's younger years hadn't wore off completely. And she was still a little shy when it came to boys. But by the rumors that were spread through the entire school, being shy with a man was not one of Marron's talents. Everyone has the list of all the men Marron has been with. I didn't buy it, of course. Everyone is somehow in my spot, and was at least a little jealous over Marron's supreme powers over the school. I just wondered how someone of her status had such a bad reputation.

"Trunks really is the charming one, isn't he?" Siya sighed dreamily.

_Hopeless Idiot._

Their conversation went on for the next hour, which seemed like hours on end to me, and I was partially thankful it was over. I would much rather have to hear their voices than to be with some tutor. What did I look like? A retard?

Just as I was exiting the class, Marron and her loyal subjects ran past me and dove into the sea of students who swarmed the hallways. I had to follow in the same direction in order to get back to my third period class room. I couldn't help but feel a little curious as to who my tutor was. But I was still annoyed.

"Hey, Pan!"

I turned my head and smiled at my best friend, the one person who made my home trouble disappear, "Hey, Bra."

"So, what are you doing after school tomorrow?" she asked, her eyes glistening with hope, and some kind of news that I had obviously needed to know. "Please tell me you're free."

Okay, I bit the line, "I'm free. Why?"

"This new club just opened up in the West City," she began. "It's called the Inferno. And only a few people were selected to go. It isn't the grand opening, but they invite VIPs before they open officially. And I got an invite."

"Well, for one, I'm only sixteen," I walked slowly, in order to avoid my tutoring session. "Two, it was _you_ that got the invite, not me."

"Yes, but there is no age limitations tonight," Bra put her arm around my shoulder. "And one invite is good for that person and one guest."

"Sure, I'll go," I answered. "Just let me talk to my dad."

"Alright, well I have to go before my ride leaves me," she kissed me on the cheek and waved as she sprinted down the hallway. Well, at least now I had something to look foward to.

Bra and I had been best friends for years. It's been so long, I honestly don't remember how we met. All I remember is that she was the first one who learned to ride a two wheeler bike first. That was my earliest memory of us, ranging back to when we were five. Bra Briefs was also one of the Queen Bees here at OSHS. Her and Marron were on good terms, but were secretly and silently fighting for higher status. Marron, being blond, and fitting the description of a dumb broad was the easy access Queen Bee. Sure, boys wanted to get with her but I'm sure none had actually wanted to be with her. Big difference. And she wasn't friendly in the least.

Bra on the other hand had a heart of gold, and was far more beautiful than Marron. And I know I'm not the only one who thinks this. Marron, to me, was artificial. Highlights, fake nails, fake toenails, she drew on her eyebrows, and changed personality with every year. Bra only wore make-up on rare occasion and had natural beauty. She has been the same sweet, but tempermental girl I've known since before I could remember. Fact: Bra Briefs is a virgin. Rumor: She wasn't. But no rumor had ever gotten to her or brought her down. And thats why I hold so much respect for her.

I sighed when I came face to face with the door of my third period classroom. The halls were almost empty, excluding the goths who sat against the wall, not talking at all and just staring at the floor. I took in a deep breath, and opened the door. Who I saw sitting in my teacher's chair was a complete shock.

"Hi, Pan," he stood up and began arranging some books. "I'm going to be your tutor."

Shock was still clearly smacked along my face. There stood the last person I expected to educate me on anything other than sports and women. But his face stayed the same as I was hoping he would laugh and tell me he was just kidding. He gestured his hand for me to sit down, "We only have one hour to get a whole weeks worth of lessons crammed into your head."

I gulped the lump that was rising in my throat. There was Prince Charming, books in hand and smile on his face. Was he serious? Trunks Briefs was going to tutor me?

"You're kidding, right?" I asked. Oops.

He raised and eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"_You're_ my tutor?"

"Yes, Pan," he balled his eyebrows and crossed his arms, "Why does this come as such a shock to you?"

"Because," I thought of my only excuse, but wished I had thought about my words before speaking. "You're not _smart_."

I could tell he was pissed off, "What? Why would you say that?"

"You're on the football team, you're obnoxious, and you have a small vocabulary; How can you teach me anything?"

"How do you think I manage to stay on the team?" he asked angrily. I winced at his tone. No way was my best friend's brother getting attitude with me. "They don't allow idiots to play for this school, you know."

I bit my tongue and took a seat where he had gestured, "Whatever. Let's just get this over with. I have other things to do."

He rolled his eyes and dropped some books infront of me, "Alright, we're going to start with basic math."

In spite of his anger and jock/jerk status, I couldn't help but find him to be handsome.

* * *

**So, that was the first chapter of a story I wrote last year. It's actually complete, and I'll be posting each chapter one week or so from each other.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Leave reviews.**

**Btw...**

**YES, I am going to bash Marron in this fic simply because of all the angry reviews I get. The Marron fans who speak rough english like to read my fics and judge me personally. So, here you go, ass holes.**

**Lady Loser.**


	2. Evil Step Mother

I don't know what girl in her right mind wouldn't find this God to be attractive. I have once even seen the blind girl on South Avenue fall at his feet. Incredible, that just this boy's scent and reputation could drive a girl mad; And I can barely keep hold of sanity right now. He wasn't catching the now and again glances I was making towards the window, hoping to see a glimpse of my own reflection. Hopefully I didn't look as down-right disgusting as I felt.

"Pan, are you paying attention?"

His voice snapped me out of my daze, and I let go of a breath I didn't know I had been holding. But now it wasn't the breath that was caught in my throat; No, it was my words. Did he just have to have a deep voice? One that aroused me in more ways than one? His eyes were a piercing blue, cutting daggers into my dull black pools of emotionless thoughts. He raised one of his eyebrows, his mouth now frowning at the situation, "Hello?" He waved a hand in front of me. It took me a while, but I was just now noticing the glasses hanging on the brim of his nose. He smiled and pushed them back up. When did he put those on?

"I'm not stupid," I snapped, pushing his hand away from my face. Just with that touch, I could eliminate what I thought about his skin. He wasn't a soft, pillowy boy. He must do alot of manual labor to have such tough skin. Couldn't help but admit to myself that I liked it. "I am paying attention." I crossed my arms and turned my face the other way, hoping to hide the heat I was feeling rise on my cheeks. I closed my eyes, willing the blush to fade away.

He gave me a knowing grin, arching one eyebrow, and the other narrowing his other eye, "Oh, are you? What was I just talking about?"

My eyes snapped open, an alarm ringing in my perverted head. All the will power I had was flushed away, and my face was colored a beet red. It was even visible in the window. I looked back at him and dropped my arms onto the desk, "You were talking about school stuff." Okay, so now that new color on my face was permenant. I know I could have come up with a better answer than that.

It didn't help my hot spot any when he burst into laughter, holding his gut and wiping a stray happy tear away, "Is that the best you could come up with, Pan?" He composed himself and got out the last of his obsene chuckling long enough to give me one glance. There must have been steam coming out of my ears for that look to be plastered on his face. "No need to get mad, calm down!" He put his hands up in defense.

"You're supposed to be tutoring me, not making fun of me," I said it through gritted teeth, but the fear drained from his face quickly, replaced by amusement.

"In order to be tutored, Pan," he leaned closer to me. Dear sweet Dende, he shouldn't get any closer. "You have to pay attention."

He smelled like an angel. His face was so perfectly formed, shaped, and molded. Just so perfect that I had to fight with every thing I had not to reach out and touch him. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the clock. It had actually been well over an hour, and time was up just a little over thirty minutes ago. Had I really gone from absolutely holding resentment towards this guy, to wishing he would take me to bed in less than two hours? Well, it's not like I could help myself...

"You're doing it again," Trunks sighed.

I looked at him, and growled, "Well, you weren't talking."

"Just because I'm not talking doesn't mean you have to stare at me like that," he smiled nervously.

I gave him a closer look, and was shocked to see a red tint along the bridge of his nose and high on his cheeks. He was blushing?

"I can't help it," I muttered, sinking down into my seat.

"What was that?" he asked.

My eyes shot open into sausers, "Nothing. Talking to myself."

Trunks stared at me for a long minute, smiled, and leaned foward, "Hey, Pan. Do you-"

The door swung open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang, "I thought this thing was _only_ supposed to last an hour."

My heart did a funny dance, emptying the butterflies that were floating in the pit of my stomach; The ones I hadn't known were there. I looked over at the door, already knowing that high-pitched, shrill voice. Marron stood with one arm propped under her breasts, her other hand fluffing her blonde hair. Her foot was tapping the floor imatiently, and one eyebrow was arched demanding for Trunks to stand.

I heard a low grunt escape his throat before he turned his head. If I hadn't been mistaken, I swear I saw him roll his eyes. But as soon as he faced Marron, there was a bright smile on his face. I was the only one who assumed that this smile was forced and fake, but he was a very good actor.

"Sorry, Marron," he said and gathered his books. "There was alot to go over."

"Yeah," Marron didn't seem at all interested in excuses. "Thats what teachers are for."

She shot me a look of death, her eyes scanning mine in demand that I sink down in my seat like the rest of her loyal followers did. But I would do no such thing. If it was a stare-off she wanted, then by Dende, she would get one. I crossed my arms over my chest, which wasn't even half the size of hers, and narrowed my eyes. My brows knitted in a fury and I tilted my chin higher to meet her ignorant pride. The last thing I was going to do was give in to such a witch.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll smack the sence out of you," Marron snapped at me.

I raised an eyebrow in challenge, "I would do the same, but there's not a lick of sence in you. But I'd love to hit you anyways." I sent her a smile, earning red face from the blonde.

Trunks looked horrified, "Girls, calm down!" He waved his hands between us and started for the door. But not before Marron snatched the glasses off his face.

"You look horrible when you wear these," she said. "I like to see your handsome face."

I didn't understand how she could be a bitch and give a compliment all in one sentence. She wrapped her arm around Trunks' waist and scooted as close as she could get. I guessed this was her way of telling me that Trunks was her property; Off limits. Had I not already known that I couldn't get my hands on him if I tried, I would have challenged her. But I knew that I couldn't have him, even if I wanted.

Trunks turned to me and smiled as they walked out into the hallway, "See you tomorrow, Pan."

Tomorrow? _Shit._

* * *

It didn't take long to get home today. The sidewalks were empty, and the roads were almost abandoned. Excluding the very few cars that passed, splashing me with every roll of their tires. If I weren't already soaked I would have cut through yards to get home. The rain was at a down-pour, and my hair was clinging to my face. The goosebumps on my arms were relantless with the cool breeze that swept over my skin, and the hood over my head wasn't protecting my hair anymore.

I shrugged it off and began up my sidewalk. I glared at the ugly flowers that were planted along side of the walk, and was tempted to stomp on every last one of them. Dende, I wished Dad hadn't remarried. Emma was a dreadful experience, and I had wished I never introduced the two of them. She was a substitute teacher when I was in middle school, and when dad finally had made it to one of my parent-teacher conferences, they had met. She was an amazing teacher, and was always nice to me. She was encouraging and I wanted to show dad the woman that had helped me pass my mid-term exams. What a mistake that was.

One date, was what he told me. A harmless drink, some talking, and dinner. What was the big deal? It made me happy at the time, but I was also a little frightened. Mom had passed only two years ago, and I didn't want anyone trying to replace her. That one date led to another, then another, and another. Then dad began bringing her home. At first she would leave at sundown. Then she stayed until midnight, and then she just wouldn't leave at all.

When it came to doing my chores, I found myself folding clothes and I found thong underwear in the laundry basket. Thats when it had all finally hit me, and I was completely disgusted. Dad was sleeping with Ms. Robertson. My substitute teacher from middle school. When I had confronted dad about it, he took a long sigh and sat me down for a talk.

_"Pan," he started. "I know you miss your mother, and no one could ever take her place. But things between Emma and myself are getting quite serious."_

_I held up the thong and pointed, "I can tell, dad. Get to the point."_

_Needless to say, but I was angry._

_He smiled and reached in his pocket, pulling out a velvet case, "I'm going to ask her to marry me tonight."_

I don't remember much after that, but I cried for hours and begged him not to do it. But he denied my simple request and left me to cry. I hated him that day. They've been married for three years now, and I still hated it. After three weeks of them being married, she was already referring to me as her daughter. Dad thought this was sweet, and hoped I would take it well. And I didn't, much to everyones displeasure.

Not even a year ago, she asked me to call her 'mom' when her parents came to town for a visit. I was inches from punching her in that complex face of hers.

"Are you going to stand in the rain all day, or come inside?"

I looked up, not realizing that I had been lost in my thoughts for so long. I still wanted to stomp on those ugly flowers, but continued to walk against my will, "Hey, Dad."

He shut the door behind us and looked at me, "You're soaked. Why don't you go get dressed for dinner?"

I removed my shoes and trotted up the stairs, not bothering to rush. I know the foor had probably already been placed on the table, but I wasn't looking foward to seeing anyone today. As much as I was starting to like the idea of spending an hour after school with Trunks everyday, I was still angry with dad for making me get a tutor.

I found my room and stepped inside. Just as fast as I shut the door, I stripped my clothes and made way for the shower. I wanted to be late for dinner; It was the one thing I had control of, and one thing that always had Emma fumming. She wanted everyone to be at the dinner table at exactly 6:30, and would be furious if anyone was late. I had exactly two minutes until I would hear her yelling up the stairs for me to come eat.

A nice, long shower would feel much better than being stared at, questioned, and insulted. I turned the knobs and stepped into the hot water with a flinch, but quickly grew used to the heat. Emma had a son, and his name was Blake. He was only twelve years old, but the boy tossed insults like a mad man. Not only that, but Emma refused to step in until I say something back in defense of myself. This was the regular dinner, and I wasn't feeling up to it tonight. I was in a good mood, why ruin it?

* * *

My shower was over not too long after it started, and I sat on my bed in a pair of baggy grey sweats and a white tank top. I was running a brush through my hair when there was a knock on my door. I knew she would come up eventually. I was already forty-five minutes late for dinner, and they were probably done by now and expecting me to come down and do the dishes.

"Come in," I said quietly, hoping she wouldn't hear me.

The door opened, and Emma stepped inside. She heard me.

"I called your name several time, Pan," she sighed. "Why didn't you come down for dinner?"

Now, I was pretty sure she knew I was in the shower, seeing as how my hair was still soaked and dripping. So I was almost sure this question didn't need an answer, but I gave her one anyways, "I was in the shower." Stating the obvious.

"You could have taken one after dinner," she said, leaning against the door frame.

"I was soaked head to toe in rain," I held my hands up, gesturing for her to get the point. "I wanted a hot shower."

"No need to get angry with me," she said. "I didn't make the rules."

Excuse me? I wanted to say it, but bit down on my tongue. I was getting used to that.

"Your father and I both think that everyone should be present at the dinner table. I'm sure that it's not a very hard request to apply yourself to."

"Well maybe if I would have had a ride home from school, I would have made it in time," I was still biting my tongue and clenching my fists to my sides.

"You know we can't pick you up," Emma flipped her hair back. "We don't have the time."

This lady was fucking insane! All she did was sit around all day, and kiss up to my dad. She had no life, chores, or even a job anymore. I was the one who did all the cleaning. Lazy bitch. And she was cutting it close, "Look, I'm sorry. Alright? I'm _so_ sorry I didn't run home from school in the pouring rain and stay dry, and I'm sorry I wanted to be clean. But it happens. A shower is a little bit more important than sitting at the dinner table when I'm not hungry."

Her lips thinned, "This wouldn't have happened if you would just pay attention in school. Whose fault is it that you've been playing stupid all year? Not mine. Get your act together, Pan. I'm sure with how you've been acting lately, your mother is turning in her grave."

That was it.

I stood to my feet and closed in on Emma; Only speeding up when she began to step back. By time I was in her face, she was backed up against the hall way wall. Being 4'11, and her being a good 5'8, she towered over me. But that wasn't important. If she were to have made another move, I was going to throttle her.

"Don't ever bring my mother into this!" I shouted, standing on my toes to get closer to her face. "If she were turning in her grave, it's simply because my dad married a conniving _slut_ like you!" I turned on my heel and started back for my room, but she wouldn't let it rest. I heard her make a 'tsk' sound a good three times before she signed her will.

"You know," she said. "You're just like your mother. Such a demanding, attention seeking bitch."

Before she was able to take a step from her spot against the wall, she was screaming for my dad. But that didn't stop me. My fists wouldn't stop moving until she crumpled to the floor. Even when she did, I followed and continued to make harsh connection with her face. Hit after hit, I wasn't happy. Even when I could see her blood on my furious fists, I wanted more. I wanted her to cry, to be sorry; To die.

I was yelling something at her, but I wasn't sure what it was. Something along the lines of telling her how much I hated her, that she didn't belong here and that I wanted her to die, but I wasn't going to stop until she stopped moving. For good. The rush of adrenaline was addicting - Running cold through my veins. I felt my dad's arm wrap around my waste and pull me up. But I grabbed ahold of Emma's hair and dragged her with me. My dad grasped my hands and yanked, trying desperately to seperate us but I only used my feet when my arms were held captive. Only twice did my foot make connection with her face before my dad put my in a lock and shoved me against the wall.

He was yelling something, but I couldn't comprehend what it was. I wanted more, I wanted to keep beating that bitch until she was burried six feet under and my mother could kick her senceless in the afterlife. I stuggled against my dad's hold, relentlessly trying to get my hands on her again but I was to no avail. I watched her stand to her feet, wobble, then run into the bathroom with her hands over her face.

I kicked and screamed for minutes on end until my dad finally got me to calm down. As quiet as I was being now, I was screaming inside and my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I panted and clenched my jaw, the pain quietly sneaking into my knuckles. I looked down, unsure if that was my blood on my fists or Emma's.

"What has gotten into you, Pan?!" my dad yelled. "What is _wrong_ with you?!"

My head jerked up and I glared daggers into him, "She's a bitch! **That's** what. She isn't my mom, she isn't my step-mom - She's _nothing_!" Venom was dripping off of my every word, joing with the hatred that clung to every sentence.

"No, Pan! She isn't your mom, but she is your step mom, and she's going to have say over what you do whether you can accept that or not!"

My palms rested against his chest for a second before I shoved him off of me. I was surprised when he stumbled backwards, but I didn't care, "She does _not_ run my life, Dad. I don't care how hard she tries. She called me stupid!"

"So?" He said it so calmly.

"_**So**_?!" I yelled. "You agree? I'm stupid?!"

"Well you're acting stupid," he folded his arms.

"Fuck you, Dad," I shoved passed him and tried to open my bedroom door before he grabbed my arm and got close to my face. "What?!"

"Don't you talk to _me_ like that," he hissed. "I want you to go apologize to her. _Now."_

My eyes widened, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Pan," I expected him to let me go, but he didn't.

"I'm not doing it," I said stubbornly. Now my fists were trobbing. "I don't care what you do to me, but I'm not talking to her."

He shook his head, let me go, and said nothing as he retreated down the hallway and towards the bathroom.

"I'm disappointed in you, Pan," he turned and gave me a look I couldn't read.

"Dad," I got him to turn and face me.

"_What_, Pan?" he asked impatiently. He sounded tired. Fed up, maybe.

"I wouldn't have hit her," I sighed. "If she hadn't insulted my mom."

His eyes were no longer narrowed, but confused, "What?"

I didn't have time to explain and repeat myself before the bathroom door swung open in a mad rush, and Emma stepped out. I winced when I got a look at her face. Her eyes weren't black, but I was sure they would be in the morning. They were both swollen, and I was surprised she was able to see. Her forehead looked as though she was born mutated and her upper lip was twice the size of her bottom lip. Her left eyebrow was split from the swelling, and her hair was a tousseled mess.

"I did no such thing!" she cried. "I never insulted your mother!"

I could feel my blood beginning to pump again, "Don't lie, Emma." I said it through gritted teeth.

"Gohan," she wailed. I couldn't tell if she was crying or not; Her face was beet red and puffed out to no extent. "She's lying. All I said was that her mother would be disappointed if she was here."

Wrong button to push, "Why exactly would she be disappointed?" My dad asked. I was happy that his anger was now turned to her, and that maybe now he would see how things really happened when he wasn't around.

Emma obviously felt the anger clinging to him, for she spit out more lies to cover her ass, "I was talking to Pan about her school work, and told her that Videl wouldn't approve. And thats when Pan went crazy and started hitting me!" Now I knew she was crying. Dende, this woman was an actress. What a _fake_.

Dad looked at me and sighed, "Is this true, Pan?"

My mouth dropped, "Are you _serious_? You believe her?"

"I'm only asking you a question," he stated, his annoyance not very well hidden.

I shook my head, resisting the urge to clock Emma again, "If you even doubt that what I just told you is true, then whatever. I can't believe you would even take into consideration that I'm lying to you." I stepped in my room. "Fuck you both."

And slammed the door.

**So now everyone has an insight of what Pan's life is like at home and why she's such an angry girl. :)**

**I'm sorry it took so long to post this, but somehow all of my files got moved into some folder that I didn't find until an hour ago,**

**R&R**

**Lady Loser**


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